


Lay Me Down to Sleep

by imagined_melody



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 06:10:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagined_melody/pseuds/imagined_melody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Petrelli comes home from a long night shift at the hospital, exhausted. Cuddles ensue with a certain grumpy, monosyllabic invisible man- who, as it turns out, is not quite as grumpy when half asleep. Pure sleepy fluff. (Reposted from livejournal.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay Me Down to Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> So before I was on AO3, I was on livejournal, like pretty much everyone else. Back in those days, my pet fandom was _Heroes_ , and my OTP was Peter/Claude. I wrote a bunch of fic for them, and my lovely friend **tisonlyaname** has encouraged me to begin posting it here, in what we are calling the Great Fic Migration of 2013. So with this fic (the first posted here, but the last Plaude fic I wrote for lj) the migration has begun! *sounds trumpets*
> 
> Warning: contains affectionate Claude Rains. Possibly out-of-character, sure, but still sweet. And it's established relationship, so we can assume that if they're together, he must be sweet at least _sometimes_ , even if only when he's half-asleep. ;)

It was late when Peter finally slid into bed, late enough that the night had gone well past its halfway point, and sunrise was coming sooner than he’d like. The apartment was freezing, and he was exhausted to the bone. Peter lowered himself into bed, careful not to jostle Claude out of sleep, and pulled the covers completely over his head, breathing a near-silent sigh of relief at both the newfound warmth and the much-anticipated feeling of restfulness. Curling his legs in towards his body to conserve body heat, he closed his eyes and felt his breathing slacken, conforming to his bedmate’s even exhalations.

He was almost fully asleep when he felt warm hands latch onto his hips and drag him gently but firmly closer; Peter grunted in response but didn’t struggle. A warm body settled against his back, and a familiar voice, blurred at the edges, whispered in his ear. “What’re you doin’ way over there, Pete?”

Peter’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, then decided to stay closed. “Didn’t want to wake you up,” he muttered back.

Claude made a noncommittal sound, half admonition and half acceptance. He rested his head against the back of Peter’s, breaths warm against his scalp, nose pressed into his skin. The position was familiar, and Peter took a moment to enjoy it as he reached up to tangle his fingers in Claude’s hair as best he could. They rested that way for a moment, and then Claude’s hands guided him to roll over, so they were facing each other. Still Peter’s eyes didn’t open; instead, he automatically burrowed his head against Claude’s chest, their bodies joining where they fit most comfortably. 

He was far too sleepy to do much else but curl close and lose himself in the feel of Claude’s hands against him, barely registering the moment when the other man drifted back into sleep. His thoughts turned disjointed, a haphazard mix of _need to shower in the morning_ and _crap, didn’t we run out of bread two days ago?_ and _God, I could just stay here forever._

Several blocks away, the faint siren of an ambulance could be heard against the backdrop of cars honking and the hum of the heater as it switched on. Peter’s mind instinctively registered it, cued to the sound after so many straight hours of work. As it faded into the distance, he once again heard only Claude’s lazy breathing and the rustling of the sheets as he shifted to get more comfortable, head still half buried underneath the covers. The stresses of the day melted away, absorbed into those little comforts, and before he could even register the transition occurring, Peter had slipped into sleep.


End file.
